Trouble
by Meli Landry
Summary: She was radiant and the force that would build Ferelden's future. He was a templar who's attention she sought. These are the memoirs of a lovelorn Cullen with ties to the future Hero. Cullen x Female!Elf Mage Surana, will span over DA:O - DA II. a/n: I own absolutely nothing. It all belongs to BioWare and I'm just here to steal their pretties.
1. Chapter 1

TROUBLE  
>Part I<p>

From the moment I first laid eyes on her, I knew I was in trouble.

I digress. The first time I laid eyes on her, I knew _she_ was in trouble. The part where I was in trouble wouldn't come until nearly ten years later, but that first moment was the beginning of it all. It was the catalyst of so many things.

The commotion was enough to draw myself and Mum from our rickety dining table and out to the dusty Denerim back alley. There was quite the racket indeed, what with raised voices paired with that of a young girl yelling for her mother. Such a scene was a rarity in the city, believe it or not. With the city guard and templars and all, our streets were relatively safe. That meant that the noise got us onto our feet without delay.

Mum grabbed her dagger and dashed out the door with me on her heels. By all means, it was a terrible sight. Despite it all (who I am and how far I've come), I still look back on that day with so much shame for the Order! A girl had been forcibly removed from her home by seven templars, who pulled her to her knees right there on the streets, in the view of everyone and the Maker himself. Her mother rushed out the door in hysterics, fighting the armored men to get to her child. We had no indication of her crimes, but whispers hissed around us that she had accidentally set off a fireball at the son of some noble who was in town for the Landsmeet. Her mother hurried her back home as she tried to figure out what she'd do with the girl, but the father of the boy saw to it that her fate was decided immediately. The Templars came to take the girl and labeled her an apostate all of an hour later. It was off to the Circle with her right away. She hadn't even the time to make proper goodbyes. It was, by far, an extremely impressionable time in my young life.

Her shanty lean-to of a home had been directly across the street from mine and I was surprised as I stood there, clinging to my mother's waist, that I had never seen her before. She was pale to the point of illness with long, wavy blonde hair that was nearly without color. Her cheeks were reddened, possibly from strain, and she had a tilt to her eyes and extension to her ears that convinced me that she was at least partially elf, though obviously not to the point that the alienage would be her home. The most striking thing about her, though, were her eyes. They were a stark contrast to her complexion, what with their large size, in comparison to her petite features, and dark chocolate color.

I simply could not tear my gaze away from her. There was a point in all of the chaos wherein she simply ceased to be. Her gaze fell, sending hair cascading around her head and shoulders like a protective blanket. It was as if she had even become one with the ground, having slumped to the point of appearing boneless. Her dad joined in the fray as well and fought with the templars behind her, as did her mother and older brother. There was a clear and constant battle raging behind her and she simply just was.

"Mummy," I whispered up, drawing the attention that I could. "What are they doing to her?"

"Such an injustice," I remember her muttering in reply. Her brow wrinkled in frustration and she pulled me tight. "She's too young for the Circle! And I doubt she hurt that boy on purpose. That much is… it is ridiculous!" She went on to inform me that the girl was, in fact, half elvish. That certainly didn't help her case. She went on to tell me that many believed elves were more vulnerable to demons, even moreso than any other mage. She said the very idea was preposterous and an unneeded prejudice. Back then, I actually believed her and felt even more sympathetic towards the girl. There I was, barefoot on the dirt path as I watched a small, pale, delicate creature being pulled to her feet. The huge, armored templars confronted both her and her parents… the fault did seem _questionable_.

There was one specific moment in all of the chaos - the one I knew I would remember for the rest of my life - when the knights pulled her back to reality. Huge hands had grabbed a lithe arm and tried to jerk her to her feet. She was limp and unresponsive. Yelling, he pulled her again and at that point, she finally gave in. Her chin lifted and eyes opened. It might have just been childish imagination, but I would swear to this day that her eyes immediately focused on me. Twenty people in our crowded nook of the road and she looked straight at me. Her gaze was remarkable, to say the least. Thirty something feet away and her eyes drew me in. They were bloodshot, hopeless and yes, it haunted me for years after. It could have been the loss her eyes showed me or the way I could practically see right through to her soul. Maker, I didn't know what misery looked or felt like until then. Or possibly, it was just the image of dark eyes framed by such a small and ghostly face. Either way, it was unforgettable.

Had I known who I saw that day or bloody hell, who I'd become myself, maybe the situation would have been different. I shudder when I think of how alternate circumstances could have changed the outcome of everything. But hindsight is a blessing we don't deserve to have in advance.


	2. Chapter 2

TROUBLE

Part II

The next time I saw her... now that is when I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't lie to myself - when I found out that my first assignment as a Templar would be a the Circle of Magi, I allowed myself fleeting moments of consideration. Didn't help that, while in the monastery, I saw her Mum on at least a weekly basis. It kept what would have otherwise been a wisp of a memory dancing across the forefront instead.

My first station was the outside door, first floor. Intimidating place. Blasted mages were always trying to talk their way out. My colleague, a broad-shouldered cut-up by the name of McFinn, leaned against the wall next to me with the crush and scrape of metal. It startled me out of my quiet moment alone. He had a cool style and a way about him, obviously comfortable in his place and environment. McFinn was certainly a person to imitate. Arms folded over his chest and he grinned at my assuredly concerned expression.

"Yes," he drawled.

"…what?"

"Saw her," he replied easily.

I was going to regret saying anything to him at all, I just knew it. Honestly, it had just come out! I certainly didn't do it on purpose. My mum, proud as she was, bragged to the entire neighborhood that her boy was going to the Circle. Two days later and the girl's mother was at asking for me at the Chantry door. She admitted to me that she hadn't spoken to her child in ages and asked me to check on her, send word of her home to my mother, and perhaps even keep an eye on her. Telling her no hadn't even been a thought in my mind. I was also curious. However, I didn't think I'd have my answers in less than an hour. I hadn't imagined that McFinn would have found her so easily, what with the sheer volume of mages residing there. His efficiency startled me, but it wasn't the cause for the fluttering in my stomach or rush I felt to my head. I regretted saying a word or getting him involved. Actually, it wasn't something I requested his help with in the first place. I had just mentioned it. That was all!

"I…you…er…what?"

He shrugged and moved his gaze to the wall across the atrium from us. "What can I say, I was curious!"

"…I knew I shouldn't have mentioned it!" My hand moved to muss my hair in frustration and I made sure that he knew my glare exclusive to him. "You didn't say anything daft, did you?" He had teased me about it for a while, after all. Running mummy's errands, he had teased, I suspect you might enjoy that more than you admit. I had reason to be concerned!

He shrugged again, smiled in an uncomfortably unreadable way and replied, "It's okay. You're not missing much, mate. Might as well forget about your little soul mate there-"

"-first of all, I've said nothing of 'soul mate'. She was simply from my area of town and I was curious-"

"-horrible thing. Forty stone easily, horrid frizzy hair that sort of looks like mine, oozing pocks all about her face, hips the size of Greagoir's ego. Not easy on the eyes at all-"

"-and secondly…what now?" I was flabbergasted in a mix of shock that someone I had been curious about for so long turned out so dreadfully, and surprise that he had thought to mention her looks at all. I mean, it wasn't like I had told him that I was in love with her or something! "How did you… what do you mean?"

Another questionable smile came as his reply. In lieu of reply, he pulled himself from the wall and strolled off. I, of course, had been a fool and believed him immediately. Not that it mattered, of course. That's what I told myself, though I suppose I was a bit disappointed. Okay, so in my darkest, least admirable times I had entertained the thought of the mage from my childhood becoming something fanciful and lovely. Silly child things. At least I knew that the girl who went through this terrible ordeal was alive and well. That's what mattered. I'm a Templar. My job was, and will always be, to keep them safe. Mission accomplished, right?

Right.

I resigned myself to carrying on and putting it out of mind, which I would have done successfully if not for that damn Anders. He attempted an escape that evening and had the entire tower in a tizzy. Mages and Templars everywhere, the latter forcing the former from rooms and respective areas as they searched the entire tower for the missing mage. He was a troublemaker. Three attempts under his belt now and, thank the Maker, he was dreadful at it. The last time he had tried it, I was told that he skillfully settled into the girl's loo and darted out through the front door the moments the guards stationed there joined the search. He was then found sleeping under the porch of an elderly woman's house in Lothering, still wearing his Circle robes. Sort of obvious he didn't belong there or anything. Quite brilliant.

So, due to this the entire tower was to be searched and we were to certainly not leave our post. I was with Bran that evening, a stodgy brute of a man with a cruel sense of humor. He was taller than most and in those rare instances where he removed his helm, he resembled a hornless Qunari with flaming red hair. He was…yes, he just was. The brilliant thing was that with him there, attempts to escape in the midst of the chaos were not likely to happen. We stood there like planted sentinels and I fed off of the older man's confidence shamelessly.

About fifteen minutes into the observation of controlled chaos, all hell broke loose. A loud explosion shook the tower. It brought portraits to the floor and people to their knees. Smoke poured in from the circular hallway to my left and ushered in a stampede of mages and Templars alike. I took off for them but was immediately stopped by Bran's firm hand. "This is what he's counting on," he scolded me. I felt momentarily daft and stood firm instead.

There was a chance that we could have a fight. It could have been a mage revolution for all we knew. The commotion that followed was unclear at best - the hall and atrium had people running through like rushing water as they ran for their lives. I struggled to keep track of it all, to stay on top of the pandemonium. Also tried to figure out what in Andraste's grace had happened. Between moving bodies and commotion, a solitary face stood out. She was slipping through the crowd with in the arms of a raven-haired Sister. Her lips were pursed together and brow wrinkled in worry. What got me, though, was the concerned look filling dark eyes set in a familiar face as she stared at the door beside me.

Maker's breath!

My stomach fell as my heart moved to my throat. But just as quickly as I saw her, they were gone. It was the slightest moment and a brief glance. I was going to have to punch McFinn directly in the face, posthaste.

And I nearly did.

Sorely, and hours later, we discovered that Anders had set up the explosion to destroy evidence of his escape, a planned blast scheduled to take place after he had made off safely and all. Took us hours to get it all cleaned up. Some of the splintered wood I had to sweep nearly became one with McFinn's face when he joined me to help.

"Well, that's funny," McFinn replied thoughtfully, pausing to rest with an arm propped on the end of his broom. "It almost sounds like you care, Cullen."

"W-well," I stammered in return, face burning. Thank the Maker that only he was about to witness the color creeping up my cheeks. "I... I don't." Gulping air, I involuntarily added, "Much."

His smirk was painful to me, at best. He smiled as if he was calling me out out but in the end, I was more concerned by my reaction to her than by McFinn's ruse. He was taking the brunt of my frustration.

He took great care in teasing me incessantly about it, up to and including the moment in which he finally admitted to me that he knew the half-elf quite well. She was a friend to the tower, a diligent student, and a role model to many of her fellow apprentices. When I scolded him on lying to me about her, what with his jokes of her appearance, it only served to convince him that I was bloody well in love with her and thus took his insults against her beauty so harshly. Apparently I had a knack at making things easier on myself.

Days went by and I attempted both in vain and despite myself to not think about her at all, but she seemed to be bloody well everywhere! It didn't help that my commander had a penchant for sticking me on the apprentice floor doing hall patrol. Seemed he thought the harrowed mages too dangerous for a new recruit. When I was walking the corridors, she was in passing. If I was to monitor the dormitories, she was en route to rest. I nearly always left the chapel when she was on her way to speak with the Sisters. I could tell it wasn't on purpose, though. She was constantly with a companion who she spoke to in soft tones, hopelessly meek and mild to the point that she was likely unnoticed by most. There would have been concern about what she was up to if not for the fact that she was well-known as the last person they need worry about.

While McFinn's constant goading did horrific things for my reputation among the rest of the Order, it did cause a few to volunteer information about her. According to some, once she joined the Circle, she made herself at home. Hadn't tried to escape, or even joked of it. Possibly never even considered giving it a shot. She had admitted to one once that the thought of the outside, while full of adventure and freedom, just wasn't appealing to her. She liked her Circle and containment. Even if the doors were spread open and mages given the choice of where to go, she'd stay there. Constantly. Like a tickle in the bottom of my soul.

And I, in as much as a boy of sixteen would dread admitting it, was starting to appreciate everything about her.


	3. Chapter 3

****TROUBLE****

****Part III****

Three weeks later, I really was in trouble. We finally spoke. I was leaving the library and she was on her way in (hardly a shock) at the exact same time. We collided. Oh, bugger. Her delicate little face nearly smashed itself upon my chest piece and I (only mentioned this due to the privacy of this memoir) sort of squealed like a little girl. Small things crashing against one's self had that effect. At any rate, I lost it and she jumped back after feeling herself hit me. Her chin snapped up from the far off gaze that had her as mindless as I was and she looked at me, startled. The cowl slid off of her head. For a moment I was absolutely captivated by the way her moon-pale hair was woven into plaits that wrapped around her head like a halo of hair. She was glorious, taken aback or not. Shortly after, I noticed her face and the bemused expression that had been plastered across it it as I took the time to admire her follicles. Mother had always told me to not stare, but she hadn't really taught me how to do otherwise. So I was at a loss, see.

"You're Cullen, yeah?"

I nodded, cleared my throat, and looked away. She bloody well knew my name! How did that happen? My cheeks were scarlet and my voice, higher in pitch than it had been prior to puberty. Peripheral vision let me know she was quirking an elegantly arched brow at me, which rode atop __those eyes__, the ones that had haunted me for years and were approximately __that close __to me. Bugger.

"I, ah," she continued, pausing as she folded slender arms over her chest, "I've been meaning to talk to you, actually. Just hadn't the chance."

"O-oh?" Damn, blighted stuttering! I'd never make it to Knight-Commander if I didn't get that in control! I cleared my throat. Again.

"Should we…" She paused again and motioned between the two of us. "…move out of the doorway, perhaps?"

Crimson. I was as red as the sash around my waist but playing it off oh-so-casual. I stumbled over my own metal-coated feet as I attempted to side step into the hallway. She smelled of fragrant magnolias. It was bloody fantastic. "W-wh-what did you…want to…to, ah…" Stab me in the heart with a saber! "…t-talk about?" My hand flew to the back of my neck. Dreadful bad habit. I forced a mortified smile. She smiled in return, likely as one would smile upon a vagrant or mad man, those with intentions that were unclear.

"I heard that you're from Denerim?" She looked curious and I was immediately terrified that it was a set-up.

"I, er…"

"I'm from there too, you see."

"…a…ah…"

Her lips spread and without an ounce of glib. Andraste's blessings to her for being kind enough to not laugh in my face. __Really__. All the training I could go through would never prepare me for the weakness that was a crush. Not that I had one, of course.

"I was hoping, if it isn't too much of a bother, that I could see if you knew my family." Her teeth played over her bottom lip, yet another thing I failed to __not__ notice, and the expression on her face weakened. "I don't hear from them often. And I was just hoping…" I was a little late on recognizing the look on her face as hopeful and in want of a reply. I certainly missed my opportunity to reassure her that I wanted to help. She frowned and drew away from me, which caused me to instinctively take a step forward.

"I…I'm sorry," I stammered. My hand flew up between us as if asking her to halt due to failing words. I had to get it together. "I, um, I know them. H-her, I mean. Yes. Your…m-mother. She knows my mother. So I, ah, I ahm...I know...__them__...?"

Her eyes searched my face hopefully, as if attempting to read my honesty, then traveled down to the emblem on my chest before flickering back up to my face. She looked delighted, that much was for sure. "Really? That is...excellent news, it is! Is she well?"

I nodded in return, opened my mouth to say something, and had nothing. So I nodded again, just to cover my bases.

Now, most would have been shocked at her behavior from that point going forward. Her arms wrapped around her own chest tighter and she looked off, her lips a whisper of a smile. Mages generally didn't keep warm and fuzzy feelings for the family members on the outside who didn't keep touch. Considering the circumstances and all, they held understandable grudges. It was rare for one to actually understand that after some time, broken and censored communication became so insignificant that it generally stopped completely. She was none of those things. I wished I had so much more to tell her and immediately decided that I would have to get messages from them to pass on or, who knows, possibly even have my mother orchestrate a peaceful reunion! Anything to deserve to see such pure happiness again.

When she looked back to me, her hand found my elbow and she gave it a soft touch. "Thank you."

I knew I let my gaze linger on her's far too long. It was highly inappropriate for a person of the Order to think anything at all about the mages we protected, better yet harbor any sort of emotion that would make us vulnerable to them. Human nature was one thing, sure, but butterflies in the stomach were a hindrance. That's why I decided right then and there that it was time for me to take my leave. Once my mouth decided to work again, I forced out a quick and sans-stutter "You're welcome" as I quickly excused myself.

I could feel her gaze upon my back as I left her and I knew she had to think of me as a complete and utter fool. Because of this, I was surprised to find a note hiding for me the very next day. It was crammed in the fist of a suit of armor standing by my favorite corridor post. Hard to miss. It had my name scrawled along the end and underlined perhaps twenty-nine times. My surprise was unimaginable when I opened it and realized it was from her, written in this lovely, loopy script that was as light and free as she was.

Templar C-

If you get the chance, please ask your Mum to tell my Mum that I am well? I don't want to make her uncomfortable with contact that she might not be prepared for but I would appreciate it. Please don't worry if you cannot. I understand. Feel free to claim that you did so you can have all of the glory without any of the annoying 'won't she just leave me be already' work. I jest! But don't feel obligated to do this for me if you can't or shouldn't.

Signed, Elora

P.S. By the by, you needn't be so timid. I'm no one, really.


End file.
